


ain't easy being green

by meatballsintheimpala



Series: Adam!Lives verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7739878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meatballsintheimpala/pseuds/meatballsintheimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say hunters are insane. For Adam, the jury was still out on whether the first place was reserved for the Winchesters or the Harvelles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ain't easy being green

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to 'a city on our knees' and 'like we're going to war'. Adam's POV.

To say that life hadn’t been kind to the Winchesters was an understatement.

To say that life was screwing the newly-appointed youngest Winchester over in every way possible pretty much summed up Adam’s life in the past few months that he had been living under his brothers’ wing.

Having apparently no other option — and giving Adam absolutely no choice on the matter — Sam and Dean had decided to adopt their little half-brother into their already dysfunctional family. Usually, house rules for hunters were to not drag anyone in their kind of life, but in Adam’s case, it was inevitable. And if he was going to be submitted into a lifetime of misfortune anyway, he might as well get to know how to survive from the experts. Thus, Adam became the third resident of the Impala.

More often than not (his brothers _did_ have the habit of dropping him off at Bobby’s on occasional weekends), he was occupying the backseat of the black beauty, mostly because on the few times he’d been allowed to take up shotgun — driving the thing was an absolute no-no — he’d ended up arguing with Dean over which cassette they would listen to. Adam had whined about still using _cassettes_ in the age of _Blu-ray_ , and Dean had been murmuring about kids nowadays and how disoriented they were when it came to music for a whole week afterwards.

To be frank, some days, it felt like the two of them were eons apart.

Out of his two brothers, Adam could say that he got along with Sam almost perfectly. Being closer to his age and thanks to the fact that Sam was actually eloquent, the youngest Winchester had found a brother in Sam’s face almost immediately. Sam was kind, smart and fun to hang out with, and Adam was grateful for it beyond belief. His relationship with Dean, however, was something else entirely.

For starters, Dean idolized their father too much for their own good. The way Dean portrayed things, John had been this awesome father who taught his sons everything they knew, protected them, and quite literally sacrificed his own life for them. In Adam’s eyes, John was the man who had taken him to baseball games on his birthdays, bought him his first beer and taught him how to drive in the very same car Dean glared at him for being a passenger of.

Reality, however, was far from both their points of view. As the most objective member of their motley crew, Sam portrayed John Winchester as a strong, loyal, but at the same time selfish man, who fought long and hard to rid the world of the supernatural while hunting down the thing responsible for his wife’s death, and who had also made some tragic mistakes in his short life. Such as, not always being there for his boys, having an illegitimate child with a woman that wasn’t his wife (at which Adam had taken slight offense), dragging his own sons into this kind of life and enforcing it on them, even when they (namely, Sam) had expressed their wishes to get out of it and live like normal people.

But despite their different views on the matter, whenever John was brought up among the Winchester boys, one thing was always certain; when the nasty verbal debate was over, they wouldn’t talk to each other for three days.

Well, more like Dean would abandon them in the dusty motel they were currently staying at, before driving away to find a bar and have a drink or five to prevent himself from killing his own brothers — Sam included.

On his part, in the short time that he had gotten to spend with them, Adam had picked up on many things. Like their (sickening, at some point) co-dependence on each other, or how they completed one another, both in their fighting styles, and in their way of life. And, of course, he would have been blind if he hadn’t noticed how tense the atmosphere was in the room some days. His brothers had rather short tempers — a trait he ashamedly carried as well — and it didn’t take much for them to snap at each other (or at him; but that was only Dean) when things got a little out of hand.

Out of the two of them, Dean was the brash badass who didn’t hesitate to start a fight, but Sam — Sam was the dangerous one. Oh, yeah. Sam was most definitely the lethal one. Even though, on first sight, he seemed like a calm and collected guy, his anger was bottomless. Having little knowledge of psychology, Adam guessed that it had to do with his childhood. From what information he had been spared (and that which he had collected from Bobby; the old man was _golden_ ), Sam was seen as the little cub that had to be protected all his life. And, to be honest, Dean still acted like he was, even though his baby brother had the girth of freaking Godzilla.

Thus, Sam must have had this whole I’m-a-big-boy-now-so-you-don’t-have-to-watch-over-me-anymore complex for almost ten years now, and no one had ever taken him seriously. His temper tantrums were legendary. And sometimes, Adam found himself being more scared of Sam’s silent, burning anger than by Dean’s loud, transitory one.

If Adam could voice his thoughts freely, he’d say exactly what had been playing off in his brothers’ heads for weeks; he couldn’t have picked a worse moment to join the family. Naturally, they didn’t let him on in everything — Dean still held him on a high suspicion level — but Adam had figured on his own that things weren’t exactly at ease in the world of hunters at the moment. A war was waging, and humanity was standing right in the middle of it. From what he had collected, the other side (namely, the bad guys; although he wasn’t exactly certain as to _who_ that was) was planning something big, like trying to unleash great evil and whatnot. And for some reason, Sam and Dean were fighting each other, even though they (supposedly) played for the same team.

Dean frequently mentioned that Sam was acting stupid, taking wrong turns and making all the bad decisions. Some _evil bitch_ had been mentioned as well, but Dean hadn’t elaborated on the matter. On his defense, Sam denied all of the above, stating that he was trying for the greater good. Whatever that meant.

In all honesty, Adam didn’t pay much attention to his brothers’ quarrels, whatever they were about, and tried to steer clear of them when they were arguing. Most of his time, he spent it trying to stay alive and learn how to make a living in this abnormal world he had been unwillingly thrown into. It had been characteristically slow of him to realize, nearly eight months after his first encounter with the Winchester brothers, that he couldn’t shoot a gun properly, nor use a knife for that matter, despite Sam’s earnest efforts to teach him such virtues. However, by the time he had come to that conclusion, neither of his brothers had the patience or the time to take him out for target practice, and Bobby was up to his ears in paperwork about the impending Apocalypse.

Ah, yes. That’s what all the fighting had been about; the Apocalypse.

As brainless as that sounded, Adam preferred not to think about it. The Apocalypse was a pretty big pile of shit, one that Adam had no desire of diving into. _Ever_. Besides, being forced to become a hunter — okay, _apprentice hunter_ — was enough to freak him out on its own. If he started thinking about the Apocalypse as well, he wouldn’t have a chance of making it through the night without suffering a cardiac arrest or a _very_ heavy stroke.

So, given his own willing ignorance towards the Apocalypse and the fact that his brothers had their hands full with it (and, thus, had no time to play with him, as Dean had oh-so-eloquently put it), the trio resorted to the only card left on the table.

Jo Harvelle.

After the initial meeting, Adam had had the pleasure — or not; that part wasn’t exactly clear as of yet — of meeting Jo a handful of times. Usually, it was in Bobby’s house, where many of them hunters seemed to drop by regularly, for varying reasons each. One other time, the Winchesters had crossed paths with the female hunter on their way back to Sioux Falls from a hunt in Wolf Point, Montana. Which hadn’t been pleasant per se, since it turned out that Jo was after the same hunt as well, and had gotten pretty pissed when she discovered that they had taken care of it before she even got the chance to. That particular meeting had resulted in an argument between Dean and Jo about Jo’s capability as a hunter (or the lack thereof, as Dean had said), which had earned him a broken nose.

Now, if he had to be honest with himself, like _totally honest_ , Adam would say that he liked Jo. She was funny, smart-mouthed, and had a no-nonsense attitude. It didn’t hurt that she wasn’t all that bad to look at, either. However, for all her small frame and girly face, she could damn well shoot a gun, decapitate you before you knew it, and even beat Dean in a fist-fight. Sure, she may cheated a little, taking advantage of her petite form against Dean’s bulky, slower one, but all was fair in love and war, and between Jo and Dean, they seemed to be jumping from one category to the other before Adam could even blink. Sam didn’t even comment on it. Adam guessed he had gotten used to it all these years of knowing (and putting up with) both of them.

All in all, Jo was a pretty fair lady, if Adam could say so himself. Sure, she cursed a lot and rarely wore anything other than jeans, but she had the aura of a true woman in her. Which was one of the reasons why Adam was nearly jumping up and down in joy when his brothers decided to dump him at Jo’s (again), and have her teach him how to shoot and swing a machete properly, while they went on doing whatever it was they did whenever he wasn’t riding with them.

However, the execution of the plan wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do. Especially since the moment Jo spotted the Impala parked outside her place and walked up to the trio, the first sentence that came out of her mouth was, “Fuck _no_.”

Really, they should have known better. Or, at least, they should have stopped for some flowers, like Sam had originally suggested. Although, on the bright side, since it had been Dean’s idea — or rather, his stubborn persistence — to not try and get on her good side ( _“We’re **not** bringing Jo flowers, Sammy.”_ ), the two younger brothers had decided to let _him_ deal with the angry lady.

“No fucking _way,_ Dean. I’m not babysitting your brother _again_ ,” Jo argued vividly, stepping her foot on the matter. Adam supposed that he should have taken some offense in the fact that even Jo was treating him like a five-year old, but he let it pass for the moment. Besides, Jo had already established one times too many that she wasn’t their babysitter or their nurse.

Something that Dean always seemed to forget, for some reason. “Come on, Jo. It’s only gonna be for a couple of days. Kid doesn’t know shit about guns _or_ knives and who’s better to teach him than you?” Dean said in a suave manner, trying to get under her skin. In the short time of knowing him, Adam had discovered exactly how convincing his eldest brother could be when talking to a woman. He knew Jo would’ve killed him for it, but Adam wished fervently for her to fall for his brother’s tricks as well.

Even though all three Winchesters knew that Jo Harvelle wasn’t like any other woman on the planet at the slightest.

Jo crossed her arms over her chest, still mad, but also slightly baffled by Dean’s sudden compliment on her skills. “Why don’t _you_ teach him, princess? I seem to recall a time when you didn’t even trust me to carry around a squirt gun.”

Dean frowned, and Adam could clearly see that he was trying to hold back a very nasty remark. You didn’t call Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, a princess and got to live long enough to joke about it. Not unless you were Jo Harvelle, apparently, that was. “Well, that one seems to be slipping my memory at the moment, but for all its worth, I think you’re great with guns. _All_ kinds of ‘em,” he added as an afterthought, with a small smirk gracing his lips.

Adam almost couldn’t believe it. After the countless times (or so Sam and Bobby had said) Jo had broken his nose, one would think that Dean wouldn’t go as far as to challenge Jo ever again. And teasing her definitely counted as a challenge.

Gah. Hunters were so _weird_.

However, Jo seemed to bite the bait, and opted for a smirk of her own. “Is that so? And how would _you_ know, Dean-o? If I’m not mistaken, the last time you tried to figure _that_ out, I socked you in the face,” she said with a sickeningly sweet voice that screamed mockery.

Dean gritted his teeth so hard Adam thought his jaw would pop. He tried to mask his irritation, by keeping up the laidback attitude. “Perhaps I’ll get luckier next time, huh?”

“ _If_ there’s gonna be a next time.”

He shrugged, before returning back to the subject at hand. “So, you gonna help us out?”

Jo remained silent for a moment, as if she was contemplating to actually turn them down, before sighing in surrender. “Sure, whatever. But three days is all; if you’re not back by then, I’m throwing him on the street. And not feeling sorry for it.”

Adam opened his mouth to protest, but Sam pinched his arm so hard that all he managed to get out was an ‘ouch’.

Dean sighed in relief. “Don’t worry, we’ll be there. I— _thanks_ , Jo. And, just for the record, if you ever need anythi—”

“Five hundred bucks,” Jo cut him off, holding out her hand, palm up.

Adam swore that he saw Dean _cringe_. “ _What?_ ”

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” the female hunter said. “Do you expect me to teach him how to use weapons _and_ feed him for three days for _free_? I hate to disappoint, Dean, but business is running low lately and you Winchesters are not exactly wallet-friendly. What’s a girl to do?”

Dean gaped like a fish, his fists clenching and unclenching in furiousness. “ _Running low_? Seals are freaking _breaking,_ demons are walking around in _packs_ , the world is going to Hell, and business is running _low?_ Seriously, Jo?”

Jo grinned wickedly. “We ain’t all Winchesters, honey. Five hundred bucks, or find another instructor.” With an angry growl, Dean dug his hand into his jacket and took out his wallet. After counting five hundred dollars, and promptly saying goodbye to his money, he slapped them on Jo’s open palm, who was still grinning. “Now, there’s a good lad.”

Dean fixed her a death glare. “You’re a fucking minx, you know that?”

“It’s all part of the charm,” Jo said, lifting herself on her tip-toes to press a taunting kiss against Dean’s cheek. “See you later, Dean-o.”

Adam pressed his fist against his mouth to cover up his smile when Dean furiously stumbled towards the car, rubbing at his cheek angrily. Picking up his own bag from the trunk, he walked up to Jo, who was waving goodbye at the two Winchesters inside the Impala — well, mostly at Sam, since Dean was stubbornly staring ahead and murmuring under his breath.

As the Impala sped away, Jo turned to the youngest Winchester and grinned up at him. “And that’s how you get Dean off your back with style.”

* * *

 

In the few times that he had met her, Adam could say that his brain had filled out a complete profile for Jo. She originated from east Nebraska, where she lived at the Roadhouse, a saloon run by her mother, until two years ago, when she had run away to become a hunter, since her mother forbid that she ever hunted under her roof.

Jo Harvelle was a passionate, determined woman, who didn’t take no for an answer and could kill you with a shot between the eyes before you even thought of bullshitting her. She was a hunter, and a good one at that. Although she lacked the vast experience his brothers had, Jo was slowly making her own way in the world of hunters. Some of her hunts were finished so precisely that even Dean had had to swallow his pride a couple of times and admit that she had done a good job. Not to her face, of course, but it was a start.

Despite being very serious and well-informed when it came to her job, Jo also had moderate knowledge of medicine, and thus could take care of wounds, dislocated limps, fever, bruises and so on with practiced ease. It pained Adam to accept that most of her knowledge on this department had come rather from experience than from medical books.

Furthermore, Jo was what one could call a pistol. For one, she was rather unpredictable, smart-mouthed and cunning. He’d never seen her rendered speechless, not even by Sam, who was known for being a master of words. Instead, Jo always found something to bark back whenever Sam was playing smart with her. And, on the other hand, she was an extremely attractive woman. Her combination of blonde hair and hazel eyes, along with her lithe body and bright smile, could send a man straight on their knees without too much effort.

“You’ve got to be shitting me. You’re not even thirty feet away! How could you possibly _miss_ the damn bottle? Didn’t those idiots teach you anything _at all_?”

Also, Jo Harvelle had zero patience. In fact, her patience seemed to run out whenever she was in close proximity with a Winchester. If he dared to ask her, she’d probably say that they were sucking it out of her by being complete and total morons, so he chose to stay silent instead. He was still battling his own personal demons by trying to accept his heritage.

“God, I swear,” Jo grumbled. “They’re starting to rub off on you.”

Adam pouted, loading rounds into the pistol she had given him for his practice. “I thought you said they were good hunters.”

“And damn idiots to boot,” Jo spat back, before coming to stand next to him. “You’re not even holding it like I showed you. Stretch your arms, bend your knees a little, and don’t _pull_ the goddamn trigger. I told you a million times already, you _squeeze_ it, not pull it.” She sighed, taking a step back. “Jesus, you’re worse than Ash.”

Adam’s ears perked up. “Who’s Ash?”

Jo’s head snapped up; she wasn’t aware that she had spoken out loud. “Just someone I used to know.”

“Anyone important?” Adam prodded with childish curiosity. He really couldn’t help it. Whenever he was near Jo, some mysterious inner force compelled him to try and find out more about her. He had mulled over that fact many nights ever since he had met her, but he couldn’t find any other answer besides the obvious; he had a slight attraction towards the blonde hunter.

One he would never, _ever_ mention to anyone, especially his brothers. Although he had a slight suspicion that Sam already knew somehow. Goddamn know-it-all.

Jo chuckled at his question, her lips moving back in a nostalgic fashion, her previous irritation long gone. Adam noted that she was prone to mood swings, too. “He lived at the Roadhouse with me and Mom for about six years. Dean once called him a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.” She smiled fondly at the memory. It was one of the rare times when Jo spoke of Dean with a smile on her face instead of a frown. “He had a mullet and, even though he looked like a useless drunk on first sight, the guy was a genius. He had built this application that could pick up demonic signs and omens. He helped me and your brothers out on a handful of hunts with that thing.” She paused, looking down for a brief moment, before clearing her throat and gazing up at him. “He was a great guy.”

Adam nodded in understanding, but didn’t dare ask for more information, like how had this Ash died. From the way Jo talked about him, he was someone very important to her, and he obviously hadn’t died a death to write home about. Making her talk to him about it and hence relive the memory of her friend’s death wasn’t exactly something he had his mind set on. He could deal with living in the dark.

Heck, wasn’t he already doing that anyway? Sam and Dean rarely kept him updated on their lives.

“What are you waiting for?” Jo’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. She nodded towards the gun in his hands. “Shoot ‘em up.”

Adam nodded and collected himself, adjusting his position the way Jo had instructed him and holding the gun in eye-level. He could see the six beer bottles placed on some boxes about thirty feet away from where he was standing, each of them about a foot away from the other. If he was confident by nature, he would’ve said that it wasn’t even a challenge. Just shoot the bottles and get done with it. But Adam had never held a gun before and been expected to actually _hit_ something with it, not even a beer bottle.

Taking a long, unnerving breath, he pressed his forefinger softly against the trigger and focused on the bottle on his left. There went nothing.

Three shots echoed in the forest, making a swarm of birds depart from the nearby trees in fear. And when Adam turned his gaze from his handiwork to his instructor, he could have sworn that the grin on Jo’s face could damn well light up the entire city of Duluth.

“Four out of six,” Jo said as she approached him once again. “See? I knew you weren’t completely incompetent.”

Adam snorted, but only half-heartedly. He had come to know that, half the time, Jo was merely teasing him to get a reaction from him. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean it. I don’t know if it’s being a Winchester, but, mark my words, you could do wonders with a gun in your hands, kid.”

Adam was a bit startled by that strange compliment, so he let out a nervous laugh. “I never thought someone would say something like that to _me_ , of all people.”

Jo shrugged casually, picking up the remaining bottle and walking back towards her truck. “Guess life never turns out the way you expected it to, right?”

The youngest Winchester put the safety on the pistol back on and handed the gun back to its owner, before claiming shotgun in Jo’s truck. Not that there was any other seat he could claim, since Jo was adamant about _not_ letting him drive her car. Was that a hunter thing that he didn’t get?

“It sure doesn’t,” he replied a moment later, after Jo had put the keys in the ignition. They had been driving for a good five minutes before he asked, “Why are we leaving so early?”

“Well, for one, it’s gonna get dark soon, and two, believe it or not, trying to teach someone how to use a gun is a lot more tiring than it sounds.”

Adam flushed. “Sorry.”

The female hunter rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. “Stop apologizing, damn it. Didn’t those two idiots you call brothers teach you anything all this time?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like having an absolute lack of manners?

“Among other things, yeah,” she replied with a chuckle. “So, how’s it been?”

“Living with them? I don’t know; cool, I guess. Dean was pretty mad at first — mostly at John, I think — but he’s getting over it. It’s a good thing Sam’s on my side whenever he decides to explode on me.”

“Well, he’s always had anger management issues. He too rough on you?”

Adam shrugged indifferently. “Not really. Sure, he’s a little obsessive when it comes to protecting me — he’s already got the big brother act going on — but other than that, he’s pretty tame. I think we might actually be starting to get along.”

“Wow, aren’t you a wonderworker?” Jo said in awe. “I could devote a whole lifetime in trying to get along with Dean, and it still would have been wasted.”

“Oh, come on, he’s not _that_ bad,” Adam argued. “They’re both kinda awesome, actually.”

Jo watched him from the corner of her eyes, looking as if she was seeing him for the first time. “What happened to the scared little guy they dumped at my place eight months ago?”

Adam rolled his eyes, feeling highly offended. “Hey, don’t blame me. I had just found out that monsters were real and that my mom had been killed by one; not to mention that I had two brothers who happened to hunt the aforementioned monsters. I’d like to see how calm _you_ ’d be if you were in my position.”

“Meh, been there, done that,” she waved him off, the truck coming to a halt as the light turned red. “Still, that doesn’t explain why those dumbasses are branded awesome.”

Adam leaned back in his seat, taking a moment to reconsider his previous statement and come up with an answer to Jo’s question. In all honesty, despite their differences and all the arguments, Adam had realized that his brothers were actually very nice people. Well, not in the cultural sense, since most people wouldn’t think of demon hunters as nice, but they truly were good people. They watched out for each other and tried to help people in their own special way. Bobby had said that a great deal of people owed their lives to Sam and Dean. And Adam had no reason not to believe him.

In his mind, Sam and Dean were two men who had been raised into this kind of life by their father, never having the chance of doing anything else with their lives. Adam knew (again, from Bobby) that for years their primary objective was to hunt down the demon that was responsible for their mother’s death. And after they’d finally found it, things had gone downhill. Sam had died, Dean had made a deal with a demon (at that, Adam had cringed) to bring him back, thus ending up in Hell himself a year later, only to return four months after that, having apparently been raised from Perdition by an angel of the Lord. Only to find the world in danger once again, and his own brother straying towards the other side.

And Adam had once thought that _he_ had it bad.

While it had taken a lot of introspection and many sleepless nights on his part, Adam had finally managed to wrap his head around every piece of information he had been exposed to in those past few months. And the more time he spend with Sam and Dean, the more he understood the deep bond they shared with each other, and how dedicated they actually were to their cause. And it had dawned on him quite suddenly, like a bucket of cold water being dumped on his head — he owed them his life.

Adam had refused to accept that in the beginning, but as time passed, it was inevitable to look past it. Sam and Dean had saved his life and, even though they had no other option but to force him into their kind of life as well, they were also doing a bloody good job at looking after him, like true brothers. When Adam had finally managed to comprehend all that, he was finally able to see how special both of them were. How broken, battered and stubborn his brothers were; never backing down, always getting back on their feet and moving on, to save more people and kill more monsters.

And somewhere along the way, he had come to respect them for what they did and accept them for who they were. Even though his relationship with Dean would always be somewhat on edge, and Sam still was scary in his own quiet way, Adam knew that those two guys were putting their own lives at stake in order for other people — normal people — to get the chance to live theirs peacefully. And, for that, they deserved some credit.

Which they rarely got, but it was the thought that counted.

“Earth to Adam, you still in there?”

Jo’s voice brought Adam back to reality, who shook his head quickly, as if trying to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, sorry,” he said quickly, before finally gracing her with an answer to her primary question. “What I meant to say is that these guys are literally being screwed over by life over and over again, fighting all their lives so that some people can sleep peacefully at nights. They get beat up, put down, and yet they still rise up against all odds, sticking to their job and making the world just a little bit safer each day. And just seeing how they don’t give up, even when everything’s going to Hell… Well, that’s not something you see every day.”

Jo watched him in silence as he went on and on about his brothers, and she secretly smiled. Because, God damn it all, those two had managed to get to Adam just like they had gotten to her back when they’d first walked through the doors of her mother’s saloon. Adam talked about Sam and Dean with pure respect and even a childish adoration. He was so different that the boy who had been asking her, mere months ago, about why anyone would choose to be a hunter on their own free will. Now, it seemed that Adam had finally understood.

A small smile grazed Jo’s lips. “Glad to see they managed to get something inside that thick head of yours.”

Adam laughed despite himself. “It took me some time to realize, but I guess they did.”

“Good,” Jo said, making a left turn. She cleared her throat, before deciding to change the subject by asking him, “So, have you been doing your homework?”

At which Adam couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Homework? I dropped out of college, you know.”

“Smartass,” she huffed with a roll of her eyes, and Adam had to fight back a chuckle. “ _Studying_ , then. Have you been doing any studying on huntin’?”

“Oh, _that_ ,” Adam murmured. “Yeah, I have. What with living with Sam and Dean twenty-four-seven _and_ being dumped at Bobby’s every other weekend, I’d say I have done plenty of _that_ kind of homework.”

The blonde hunter smirked slyly. “Fine, then. How about a little pop quiz?”

Adam raised an eyebrow at her in suspiciousness. In his experience, Jo had never done anything without having an ulterior motive. Which usually was to annoy Dean, but whatever. “I think we’ve already established that I’m a drop-out.”

“Good. So am I.” Jo grinned. “Oh, what’s wrong, Adam? Afraid of a little test, are you?”

“No,” Adam countered quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly for his taste, since it seemed to fuel Jo’s taunting look. “I just don’t see what’s in it for me.”

“Haven’t you been hanging out with Dean a lot,” she noted with a raised eyebrow. “Alright. How about a date?”

At that offer, Adam turned beet red. “W—what?” he stammered.

Jo looked like she was enjoying this way more that she should. “What, it’s only fair that I take you out on a date if you pass. I mean, I’m already housing you. A date is the only thing I can offer.” She paused, only to raise a single suggestive eyebrow. “Unless you’ve got something else to ask for.”

The innuendo in her tone wasn’t missed by Adam, who brought the uncomfortable conversation to an end and covered up his nervousness with a curt, “No! The date’s fine with me!”

Jo shook her head, allowing herself a chuckle. Despite how hard he tried to look like a man, it was crystal clear that Adam was still a nineteen-year-old kid. “Alright, it’s on. So, an easy one to start off. How do you kill a demon?”

“You can’t kill a demon per se, but you can exorcise them, namely send them back to Hell, without killing the person the demon is possessing. There are Latin chants used for exorcising demons. However, one can kill a demon with the Colt, a gun which is said to be able to kill anything. There’s also this demon-killing knife Sam and Dean have, but just like the Colt, if you attack a demon with it, the person it’s possessing will die along with the demon,” Adam explained proudly. It was a fairly easy question, and he was known for being quite a good student back in his high school years.

Jo nodded, clearly impressed. “Well done, scholar. Now there’s a trickier one. What works against vampires, wooden stakes or silver?”

Adam smirked, and he felt so badass at that moment. “Neither. You cut their heads off to kill them. Dead man’s blood can only incapacitate them briefly. Also, the Colt.”

“What does a silver knife or bullet kill?” Jo prodded.

“Let me see. Werewolves, shape-shifters, djinns, zombies,” Adam said, ticking off the categories with his fingers. “And, of course, ghouls,” he added ironically. After what happened to his mother, he’d dug up all the information Bobby had on ghouls. He had to know exactly what was it that took away his most precious person. “Though it doesn’t really kill them, more like stall them or something. Bobby says it’s like a bad burn to them, kind of like holy water for demons. The only way to kill them is by beheading.”

“First rule of hunting?”

“Always be prepared—for everything. You can never be too cautious, and it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Adam replied with practiced ease.

“How many types of demons are there?” she insisted.

He scrunched up his nose in thought. “As far as we know, there are the regular demons, which are identifiable mostly by their black eyes. Then, there are the Crossroads demons, who make deals with humans and whose eyes are red. Also, there are other, higher-ranking ones, like Lilith or Azazel, the yellow-eyed demon. And then, there are the hellhounds and the Daevas, demonic creatures which are mostly used by other demons.”

“Well, looks like I’ve underestimated you, kid,” Jo admitted, parking her truck in front of her apartment complex. “Okay, last question. It’s pretty basic, and if you can’t answer that, then you might as well shoot yourself right now.” Adam shrugged a shoulder, silently telling her to bring it on. “Name four uses of salt—besides cooking.”

Adam scratched the back of his head, looking as if he was digging inside his brain for an answer. “Well, for one, it’s used for protection. Pouring salt in front of doors, windows or vents prevents spirits and demons from walking in. Also, salt is very effective against demons, like if you pour it down one’s throat, it would be like feeding gasoline to a human. You can use salt to purify a human corpse, too, and thus make its spirit rest. Hm, what else?” he asked himself in an effort to remember another use of salt.

“Hellhounds,” Jo piqued in after a short moment of silence, startling the youngest Winchester. Perhaps it was just him, but he noticed a slight wavering in her voice. “It can ward off hellhounds and hurt them; much like it works for demons.”

Adam pouted at her. “I knew that,” he said as they climbed out of the truck.

Jo laughed. “I bet you did. Don’t worry, this doesn’t cancel out our date.”

The young man blushed furiously. “You don’t have to, you know.”

“’S okay. It was a deal, and I’m sticking to my end of it.” She paused to give him a wink as she pulled out her apartment’s key. “And I promise to have you back before curfew. Wouldn’t want big bad Dean-o to spank your ass or anything, right?”

“Would you _stop_ that? I’m not scared of Dean!”

The key was inserted in the lock with a slight creak. “Sure you ain’t. Anyway, you should get some rest. We’re practicing knife-throwing tomorrow,” she explained as the two of them walked inside her apartment. “And, I’m telling you, that’s some nasty shit.”

Jo hadn’t even had the time to shut the door behind them and flick on the lights of the living area when a voice coming from the far side of the room caught both her and Adam’s attention.

“Joanna Beth Harvelle."

" _Shit_ ,” Adam heard Jo curse under her breath, before centering her attention to the woman standing in the middle of her living room. He faintly noticed that her hand was gripping her father’s knife tightly. "What are you doing here?"

The woman narrowed her eyes at the duo. "You should be glad I'm not spankin' your ass, Jo. I left you a hundred messages; are you tryna give your mama a heart attack?"

Jo rolled her eyes but didn't reply nonetheless, her death grip on her knife relaxing. She walked past him and shrugged her jacket off her shoulders before draping it over the back of the couch.

Adam was shocked, to say the least. During the time spent by the Winchester brothers, Adam had learned a lot about the elder Harvelle woman, despite having never met her in person. Ellen Harvelle, née Lincoln, was as normal as one could get before she met William Anthony “Bill” Harvelle. Bill was a hunter, born in a family of hunters that run the Roadhouse, a saloon situated on the northeast side of Nebraska.

After his parents died on a hunt, Bill and Ellen took over the Roadhouse, offering shelter and help to passing-by hunters. The Roadhouse soon became a haven for many hunters — including John Winchester, Adam had learnt — and the pair did their best to assist them in their hunts. Jo arrived a few years later, making the two happier than ever. However, their happiness was short lived since, seven years after Jo’s birth, Bill was killed on a hunt.

Jo had explained this to him during their first meeting, however, the detailed report came from Dean, one night when the atmosphere between them was less tense than usual and a few drinks had been consumed. Bill and John were on a hunt at Devil’s Gate Reservoir, California. They were supposed to set up a bigass devil’s trap, but a slip on John’s part left Bill exposed to the demon they were hunting, and got him injured pretty damn bad.

And it had fallen on John’s shoulders to get the man out of his misery.

Adam had been initially shocked to find out that it was his father who was responsible for Bill’s death. Sure, Jo had said that he had _gotten_ him killed, but planting a bullet on the man’s skull sure counted as a bloody murder. For a week afterwards, Adam had felt his hatred for his absent father resurface. Such heartlessness towards a man who was supposed to be his friend? Why?

But, alas, the questions would always remain unanswered. Even Bobby hadn’t been keen on sparing a few words on the matter. Thus, Adam had no other option but to drop the subject.

So, after Bill’s death, Ellen continued to run the Roadhouse, while trying to raise her daughter the best way she could. Ash had moved in with them at some point as well, and the three of them offered a place to stop by to numerous hunters from all over the country. However, Ellen wasn’t exactly warmed up on the subject of Jo being a hunter as well, which was the main reason why the two of them bumped heads more often than not.

Hence, Jo’s reaction to Ellen’s sudden appearance.

"This your boy?" Ellen’s question broke Adam out of his reverie, and he watched — in slight horror — as a sly smirk appeared on Jo’s lips.

"Not that much of a boy, mom; if you catch my drift."

Adam choked at that, but the elder woman wasn't fazed at all. Apparently, this kind of banter was common amongst the Harvelle women. "Cut the bull, Joanna Beth, and introduce me to this young man."

Jo sighed, resigning for now. " _Fine._ Adam, that’s my mom, Ellen Harvelle. Mom, this is Adam, also known as the third Winchester," she finished with a victorious grin.

Ellen shook her head. "So, you've been hanging out with them kin, after all," she said solemnly, before stretching a hand out towards Adam. "John's other boy, huh?"

Adam shook it quickly. "Yes, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Ellen allowed herself a small chuckle at that. "Finally one of them that has manners. I'm guessin' you had the good fortune of not being raised by a travellin' hunter."

Adam scratched the back of his head; a tic he had picked up from Dean. "I grew up with my mom. I didn’t meet John until seven years ago.”

Ellen nodded knowingly, as if she was asking him, even though she already had all the answers. How the Hell did moms do that sort of thing? "Well, if you were anything like your brothers, I'd be slapping ya upside the head already," she said, before turning to her daughter. "Have you fed this kid, Jo? I swear I could try and count his ribs from where I’m standin’.”

Jo growled and rushed out of the room, not bothering with a reply. Adam could already see that the relationship between the two women held a lot of similarities with the one his own brothers shared; hovering between love and hatred and all that. Actually, now that he thought of it, most hunters seemed to share those kinds of relationships with each other.

Once again, Adam couldn’t resist the mental snort. They were so goddamn _strange._

Shifting his attention towards Mama Bear — as Dean liked to call Ellen whenever she wasn’t near — Adam noticed that she was sizing him up with her eyes and he shifted in discomfort.

“Is… something wrong?”

Ellen shook her head in denial. “Just your eyes. Too blue for a hunter,” she explained, walking towards the kitchen.

Adam followed suit. “Is that bad?” he asked worriedly. Dean had described Ellen as a woman who knew her stuff pretty damn well, so a comment like that from her had to mean something. Right?

“My husband had blue eyes,” she added as an afterthought, as Adam watched her pour water into a pot. “Gave him a way too innocent look for a hunter. Made him look green.”

“Well, I _am_ green,” Adam countered sheepishly, earning a curt laugh from the woman.

“I’d like to wish you’d stay that way, son, but it ain’t the case. Sooner than you’ll realize, you’ll be in as deep as any of us.”

Adam nodded knowingly. “Yeah, I—I’ve been told so before.”

“But until then, you need to build up a strong stomach. And since I happen to know what those boys have been feeding you these past months, today you’re getting a home-cooked meal. And don’t think I’ll hesitate shoving it down your throat, young man.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

 

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully. There was a noticeable tension that hung between the Harvelle mother and daughter, but Adam was too used to the same behavior by his brothers to give it much thought.

One thing he enjoyed in his two days amongst the Harvelles was that they seemed to hold no secrets from each other. Sure, Jo was relatively edgy around her mother — mainly because Ellen acted as if she was a ten-year-old she had to keep away from sharp objects and bad people — and Ellen’s mother hen attitude _was_ kinda suffocating, but he had to admit that he had a much greater time with them two, than he did whenever he was with Sam and Dean.

A sad truth that was, but a truth all the same.

Jo, true to her promise to Dean, took the youngest Winchester out for knife-throwing practice, which didn’t seem to have as good results as the shooting practice the day before. However, Adam wasn’t really brought down by it. How often would he have to throw knives anyway? When it came to handling the knife — or, to be more descriptive, the _machete_ — he didn’t feel quite as scared as he had thought he would. Being at ease with a knife in your hands, Jo had said, was mandatory for a hunter, since most of the things they went after could be killed solely by decapitation.

Secretly, Adam couldn’t wait for the day he got to kill his first ghoul. He wasn’t blood-lusty by nature, but after what happened to his mother, he instinctively developed a need to take revenge on those stupid creatures. The lust for vengeance did run in the family, after all.

During his second stay at Jo’s, Adam also got to know Ellen better. She reminded him a lot of his own mother, and at this point, he needed a female figure in his life. Bobby and the boys were great and all, but sometimes he thought he would choke from the amount of testosterone in the Impala. On her part, Ellen really did act like a mother — and not only towards Jo. She cooked lunch and dinner, bitched at them for returning late from knife practice and shook her head whenever a response she got was too much of a reminder of how different kids were nowadays.

All in all, Adam could say that he adored the lady, if that didn’t mean risking a concussion — courtesy of Ellen’s insane daughter.

A few hours before his inevitable departure, and after a vivid conversation with Ellen concerning Jo’s decision to move to Minnesota, of all places — a place that Ellen hated because of the extreme humidity — Adam found himself sitting in front of the television on Jo’s not-so-comfortable couch, with eyelids weighted down by fatigue.

Nevertheless, the younger Harvelle wasn’t sensitive enough to let him rest and instead delivered a kick of mild force on his sheen, making the young man jump from his seat with a yelp.

“What the hell?”

Her look wasn’t one of sympathy. “Get up, rookie. We’ve got places to go.”

Adam vaguely checked his watch while eyeing her warily. Seriously, all he wanted was some bloody sleep. “It’s eleven-thirty. Why should we go _anywhere_?”

“Because I promised you a date — and I always keep my end of a deal,” Jo simply stated, before slipping on her denim jacket.

Adam groaned. He had freaking forgotten about that. “Jo, you don’t have to—”

“You’ve got five minutes.”

The young man sighed deeply, before grudgingly getting on his feet. He didn’t know why he was so willing to follow every single order Jo passed onto him, but it was so damn infuriating. If Dean could see him, he’d probably say that he was whipped. Only that term only applied to relationships and what he and Jo had certainly wasn’t one.

On the other hand, what _was_ it that he and Jo shared? A friendship? A deep understanding? A mutual acknowledgement of Dean’s incapability to act like a normal human being?

However, he didn’t have much time to ponder on it as he chased after the rambunctious woman. He found her waiting patiently by the pavement, her foot taping restlessly against the cement.

“So, where’re we going?” he asked as he zipped his hoodie up to his collarbone. Goddamn Duluth was freaking _chilling_ , despite it being July.

Jo eyed him briefly before starting to walk down a road that he had absolutely no clue where it led. “Someplace.”

In the short amount of time he had been allowed in Jo’s presence, Adam had learnt that the only way to go on unscathed was to never argue with the blonde hunter. She had a temper that rivaled Dean’s, and he wasn’t up for receiving the end of it tonight. Just for once, he wanted to have a nice, uneventful, peaceful evening. For old times’ sake.

They walked an awful lot, but the youngest Winchester strangely didn’t seem to mind. Although he had already been to Duluth twice, he had hardly seen anything outside Jo’s apartment. As they strolled through the damp streets of Duluth, Adam could taste the humid air on his lips, a sign that they were close to Lake Superior.

The buildings in this part of the city were rundown and just plainly ugly. Most of them were old hovels that hadn’t been used for accommodation in years. The smell of rotten wood hung in the air and released a nasty odor into the atmosphere. If he was still the delicate person he had been six months ago, Adam may have complained about it. But seeing how much worse things he had got to smell in those past few months — with decaying corpses being the first thing on his list — he was _almost_ unperturbed.

Despite the once-humble abodes, the rest of the area was filled up by rundown bars and pubs that had clearly seen better days. He recognized one of them as the _Sandpiper,_ the bar Jo worked as a waitress at.

Adam was too caught up in exploring this new part of the city with his eyes that he almost jumped in surprise when Jo tugged on his sleeve in order to pull him into an alley and towards their destination. Without being given the chance to collect himself, Jo dragged him to the marina. The area was quiet at this time of night, if not dead. The lights had gone out a few hours ago it seemed, and all workers had long since left the place. Now only a few boats were anchored in this part of the marina and about three other couples were strolling down the lakeside.

Much to his surprise, Adam saw Jo walking up to the very edge of the wooden platform and taking a seat with her feet dangling off the platform. Hesitantly, he followed her example and sat down a few inches away from her, allowing his own legs to hang in the space between the platform and the lake’s water.

“So, what’s the big deal about this place?”

Jo rolled her eyes and pushed a can of beer in his hands, which she had produced from a backpack he hadn’t noticed her carrying on their way there. “Patience is a virtue, Adam,” she chastised him cockily.

Adam snorted. “Like you’re the one to talk. You almost shot me when I took a minute to hold the machete properly.”

“Irrelevant,” Jo waved him off. “The knife should be an extension of your arms. You won’t be allowed a second out there, let alone a minute.”

Adam didn’t know how to reply to that, or if he even should, so he chose to remain silent instead. He took a swig from his beer, only to choke on the raw taste of it. He may have become a regular in bars now that he was spending most of his time with the Winchesters, but he didn’t think he’d ever get familiar with the taste of cheap beer. And it was in those moments that the difference in his upbringing showed the most.

A chilly breeze reached them in its journey across Lake Superior, making Adam squirm in his seat above the dark waters. He was about to make a rather nasty comment on Minnesota’s early-July weather — which he had unavoidably gotten acquainted with in his eighteen years of living in Windom — when he noticed Jo twirling something in her hands thoughtfully. Adam felt his eyes widen by a fraction.

"You smoke?"

Jo shrugged, consumed by the process of rolling her cigarette. "Only when I'm stressed."

He raised an eyebrow in question. "And you're stressed... _now?_ When we're sitting on a wooden board doing nothing?"

"Mom's in town. That's reason enough," she explained offhandedly, taking the first drag and exhaling a chain of smoke like a pro. Adam glowered at the memory of his first and last cigarette. It had given him an itchy throat and an annoying cough for two days. "So. What's being a hunter like for you?"

"Beats me,” he answered truthfully, without missing a beat. In all honesty, the Winchesters had him sitting on the bleachers most of the time, instead of letting him get some action himself. Which he had yet to decide whether it was a good thing or not. “I'm more of a nurse than a hunter, really. That is, when I'm not dumped at Bobby's."

"Yeah, figures you’d get the short end of the stick. But at least these two'll be getting proper stitches at last. You were studying pre-med, right?"

Adam nodded. “Luckily I was through first aid when my world went down. But no one ever tells you what you might have to deal with. I mean, Dean almost beat me up for trying to relocate his shoulder once."

The laughter he provoked almost made her choke on her cigarette. "Yeah, they're lousy patients."

“What about you? Ever been to college?”

"I did, actually,” she said with a nod. “About six years ago, mom thought I could be a kid like any other. So after I graduated from high school, she sent me off to college."

"Where'd you go?"

"Madison. Not that I stuck around much. I was outta there like a bat outta Hell."

Adam couldn’t help his raising eyebrow. "Why?"

"Didn't fit in. For as long as you’ve known me, would you ever take me for an academic? I'm not cut out for this shit. I'm a hunter. I was born a hunter. End of story."

If Adam had a different opinion, he chose not to share it with the female hunter. His plans for a calm and peaceful night overthrew his need to argue against what he thought was a childish view on life. Nobody was ever born to be something. Life was all about making choices, and building up the future you’ve dreamed for yourself. Destiny was yours and yours alone to make; the Winchesters had proved as much.

However, he chose not to dwell any further on a subject that Jo was sure not to ever change her mind about. Instead, Adam decided to shift the conversation towards something he had wanted to get off his chest for the past two days. "Can I say something? You know, without the fear of impending head injury?"

Jo laughed at his choice of words. "Sure, go ahead."

"I think your mom's a great person. No—hey, don't give me that look. You know she's awesome,” he argued when he saw Jo scowl and chew angrily on her half-finished rollie.

"Figures she'd get you on her side. You're a cheap one, you know what? Whoring yourself out for a plate of spaghetti.” She shot him a dirty look. “Though I should expect so from a Winchester."

Adam pressed his lips together in slight offense. "We can't be that bad of a kin." He was shocked to find that he was feeling the need to stand up for his newly discovered family, which he had wanted nothing to do with not half a year ago. Much to his surprise, he was actually starting to become a Winchester.

"Trust me, sweetheart, you are," Jo stated as a matter-of-factly, putting out her cigarette on the wooden platform below them, and fishing into her pocket for the pack of tobacco, in order to roll herself another one.

This time, Adam found himself engrossed by the process of cigarette-making. The way Jo rolled the paper between her fingers reminded him of his mom when she was making cannelloni. He could almost taste the smell of melting cheese and vegetables, all wrapped up together with the sense of comfort and invulnerability.

His eyes cast downwards.

It was in unexpected moments like this one that his mind opted to drift back to the times when his biggest issue was gathering the balls to ask Lucy Andrews to prom. It was in times like these that he missed his old life and all the comforts it provided. The stability, the safety, the coziness. Those qualities were particularly hard to find in the world of hunters. And, Gods, did he miss it.

But if he were to be truly honest with himself, Adam would say that the thing he missed the most was love. Affection. The feeling that there was someone out there who cared for you beyond the borders of brotherly love — not that Sam and Dean were particularly keen on expressing their feelings to anyone (not even to each other) — someone to think about before you drifted into slumber and when you woke up in the morning.

In his nineteen years of life, Adam didn’t get the chance to experience love in the way most of his friends had back in high school. He didn’t know whether it was him or not, but no girl ever seemed to evoke such feelings inside him. Sure, he had briefly dated Lucy through ten and eleventh grade, but she never became anything more than a crush. He had enjoyed spending time with her, going out on dates and kissing her pink mouth for hours, but Adam was also sad when he realized that he was too keen to see her going off to college in New York City. Lucy wasn’t the love of his life, not even close. And it was while he was waving goodbye to her on the bus station that he had first began to wonder if he would ever find a woman truly worthy of holding his heart in her hands.

Thoughts of the kind kept haunting him for a long time after that. They had been haunting him when he graduated from high school, and they had haunted him when he was in college, meeting all kinds of new people and still not being able to find one among them that caught his eye.

But then his mother had been murdered, Sam and Dean had waltzed into his life, all his dreams had come crashing down and it just didn’t matter anymore.

Until he met Jo.

Adam didn’t know what it was about this woman, but it made his stomach act up and do all sorts of funny things when he was within her vicinity. Jo was different from any other woman he had ever met in his life. She was quick-talking, snarky, rough around the edges, and could shoot you dead without even blinking. She was not your average twenty-five year old girl. Perhaps hunting was to blame for that. Most of the girls he’d known back in his school days thought vampires and werewolves existed only in Stephanie Meyer’s books. Jo, on the other hand, could behead Edward Cullen and be on time for breakfast.

However, Adam knew that any feelings he might have had for Jo were wrong. Jo was off-limits. Sam had been kind enough to remind him of that fact several times in the past. “Jo’s definitely not the girl you want to pine after,” the middle Winchester had commented. “She’s Dean’s territory, and I wouldn’t advise you to put his patience to the test.”

And it made sense to Adam, really. His relationship with Dean was a little more than just fragile. Bringing his feelings for Jo on the frontline would be disastrous for the tender stability they had managed to establish between them. So he kept his mouth shut and his eyes cast downwards whenever the subject came up, because he knew that, at the moment, his relationship with the Winchester family was more important than anything else in the world.

However, Dean wasn’t anywhere near Duluth at the moment, and what he didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him—right? Besides it wasn’t like Dean and Jo were a couple per se. Both sides seemed to always be mad at the other for reasons Adam had yet to understand, and they never showed any affection to each other. Just pure, merciless flirting. In Adam’s mind, that didn’t even count.

With a deep breath and a awkward cough in order to clear his throat, Adam began. “Jo, can I tell you something?”

The Harvelle woman didn’t even try to conceal the annoyance in her snort. “You don't have to ask, kid. Just shoot.”

“Right. You see...” The words faded from his mouth and his tongue did a double knot. What the fuck was he about to do? Dean would kill him so dead that there wouldn’t even have a body to cremate. ‘Cause, you know, he was a hunter now and he would definitely get a hunter’s funeral. “Ah—nevermind,” he backtracked suddenly. “Forget it, it's stupid.”

Jo raised an eyebrow at him, exhaling smoke through her nostrils nonchalantly. “Adam, I've known Sam and Dean for years. So, trust me when I say that I know how to handle stupid,” she said, fixing him with a stare that had him sweating bullets and squirming in his seat. An action that obviously didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde hunter. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, is something wrong?”

 _Wrong? No, nothing’s wrong. Except, you know_ — _the fact that I’m crushing on my eldest brother’s kindasortapossibly girlfriend. And said brother’s probably gonna kill me in some very painful and torturous way. And Sam’s not gonna be able to defend me because he freaking warned me about pining after Dean’s girl. And I really should have listened to him because_ — _hey, he’s Sam. He’s always right. And I’m like, not. And Dean’s going to murder me. Slowly. God, I’m so dead._

“I don't know,” Adam finally answered, looking up to find worried chocolate eyes staring back at him in confusion. “I think—I think I might have a crush on you.”

It took a moment for Jo to process the words that fell out of his mouth, and when she did, all she could muster up was an incredulous chuckle that destroyed his self-esteem just a little bit more. “A crush? Oh, trust me, Adam, you don't.”

Adam furrowed his eyebrows. “I think I do,” he repeated stubbornly, because Jo couldn’t possibly know more about his feelings towards her than he did, right?

“No, you don't.”

“How would _you_ know?”

“I just know, alright?” Jo snapped, sucking on the cancer stick between her lips. “You think you're attracted to me because I'm the only female you've met since you entered this world. You can't have a crush on me. Not like this.”

Suddenly, all thoughts of Dean cornering him with all sorts of surgical tools in his hands and the intent to kill in his eyes vanished from Adam’s mind, only to be replaced with worry. Since he had first met Jo, he had been able to distinguish the wounded soul that hid behind the cocky smile and independent attitude she had. As much as she tried to mask it, Jo was a girl with no fewer feelings than the others, who was afraid of rejection as much as she hated being the one to offer it.

And also true to her femaledom, she had the tendency to think of herself as not good enough when it came to men and catching their eye.

“Why do you always do this?” Adam asked with a serious voice that signaled that their conversation was running deeper. “Sell yourself short? Act like you're not good enough?”

“Because it's true. I'm screwed up. We all are. I can't expect to be attractive to people, because I know that I can't make connections. I can't bond—so I don't,” she explained casually, her voice steady but overflowing with emotions. “And neither should you. You might not see it now, but everyone that we drag into this is doomed. Acquaintances, lovers, friends. You can't take that risk.”

He let her words sink in for a minute, but his mind was made up and nothing would deter him from his goal. Blame the Winchester innate stubbornness for that. “I think you're a great person,” he offered honestly.

Jo huffed. “Please.”

“No,” he insisted. He could see clearly now how little Jo thought of herself and he was not about to let her belittle herself not a second longer. “You need someone to remind you that you're still human, Jo. That you're not the same as the things you hunt. Truth is, you're one of the funniest people I know. Sure, your attitude might be a little wearing sometimes, but that's what makes you, you know— _you_. You’re smart, and a good hunter and you’re one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. Now, I don't know what the deal is between you and Dean, but if he ever let you go, then you've got every right for making his life a living Hell.”

At that, Jo let out an involuntary laugh. “If you wanted to know about me and Dean, all you had to do was ask,” she replied cheekily, making the tips of his ears flush.

“And you would have told me?”

Jo shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. “Dean and I have no history, Adam. He was just the silly crush of a silly girl. But the time came when I realized that it could never work, because we're exactly the same. Where he claws, I bite. You can't build a relationship on raw passion. Because when the passion fades away, you’re left with a person you might as well hate. Dean knows this, too. That's why we act the way we do. We know that this is as close as we'll ever get to each other, because that's us. It's who we are.”

Adam frowned, still not understanding what good the constant flirting between them could be, especially since both were aware of the fact that they would never become an actual couple. Human relationships were so messed up.

“ _We_ 're not like that,” he offered as an afterthought, because even though Dean and Jo may weren’t an item, his feelings for the blonde hunter were still present. Dumb, fucking luck.

Jo gave him a toothy grin. “We're not. But that doesn't mean that we can work it out.”

“Because I'm younger?”

“Because you're green.”

“So what? You've been green, too, at some point.”

Jo nodded, her lips pursed in thought. “I was. And, trust me, if you want what’s best for you, you've got to focus entirely on hunting. Leave love for later.” She clicked her tongue. “Possibly never.”

Adam looked crestfallen.

“Oh, come on,” Jo chastised him, bumping his shoulder with hers playfully. “There are better things in life than love.”

He huffed, arms crossed like a spoiled child that didn’t get what he wanted for Christmas. “What’s that?”

“Fireworks.”

And just as Adam had raised his eyebrows in question and was about to mouth his confusion, the night sky of Duluth was suddenly lit up by hundreds of colorful fireworks. He felt his breath leave his lungs as he watched the sky being turned into a cornucopia of bright colors.

Of _course_. It was the 4 th of July.

As soon as the first fireworks had been launched, they just kept coming and coming. Adam silently thanked whatever God he could still find enough faith to believe in for being there, by Jo’s side, watching the fireworks are they colored the sky. He was fairly certain that this was what she had in mind when she dragged him out of the apartment earlier. And he felt so grateful that she had.

What he was experiencing—there were no words poetic enough to describe the colors that were parading on the night sky. No words to describe how lighthearted and ecstatic he felt at that moment.

And there were quite possibly no words to depict what in the world was going through Jo’s head as she pressed her lips tenderly against his cheek a moment later, while Adam was too engrossed by the fireworks playing out before them.

When he turned his head towards her in slight shock, he found the blonde woman smiling brightly up at him. “W—what was that for?”

“You can’t have a date without a kiss, dumbass.”

And then, in a moment of epic flourish and overwhelming courage, Adam leaned down and pressed his chapped lips against Jo’s. Startled as much by his own actions, as he was by the sudden realization that Jo wasn’t pushing him away, but much rather _reciprocating_ his gesture, he chuckled softly against her mouth.

Jo pulled away to look into his blue eyes with a raised eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

Adam shook his head uncertainly, because this was the weirdest emotional situation he had ever found himself into. “Just—you’re really weird, you know that?”

And as she laughed, he knew that he was right. “It’s all part of the mystery that is Jo Harvelle,” she replied cockily, her response reinforced by a flirtatious wink, before leaning her head on his shoulder.

Adam briefly wondered if he would ever get the chance to unravel that mystery. God knew that he wanted it more than anything, but part of him dwelled on whether it would be better if the mystery was preserved. Who knew what lay underneath the brash attitude and the smart comebacks? Adam wasn’t sure what he would find down there, but he was almost certain that he wouldn’t like it.

Just like Sam and Dean, Jo carried her own darkness in her soul. Memories and scars earned in the battlefield. Nightmares that probably haunted her in her sleep. Fears that this world had cultivated in her. Secrets than were sealed tightly inside her heart, never to be revealed, in fear of the destruction they could cause.

And as they were sitting on that wooden platform, staring up at the fireworks, Adam realized that there was no need for the mystery of Jo to be unfolded anyway. Some secrets are not meant to be told, after all. He didn’t need to analyze her in order to love her. Even though he knew that even if he did, he would still not be able to discover everything about Jo. In his mind, that was also part of the charm. The way she had professionally managed to set up a veil around herself, intriguing poor kids like himself to delve further into the depths of her personality. Enchanting them like a siren.

And when Jo’s fingers deftly wove themselves in between his, Adam knew that he was doomed. Whether what he felt for Jo was indeed a mere crush that would fade away over time, or his feelings actually had a certain depth to them, he had fallen hard for the woman beside him. And much to his surprise, Jo didn’t seem to be completely repulsed by the idea of Adam making a move on her.

Although he was pretty sure that she would never agree to a relationship of any sorts, and if anything were to occur between them, it would probably mean occasional hook-ups and fooling around, but Adam wasn’t exactly opposed to that idea himself. There weren’t a lot of things he had left in this world, and so even a fracture of Jo’s affection was enough. For now, at least.

In the end, Adam still didn’t know much. He didn’t know if he would manage to make it through as a hunter, or if things would ever be normal between him and Dean. He didn’t know if he and Jo could build and preserve a relationship that was based on occasional meetings and stolen kisses. He didn’t even know if he would live long enough for _this_ — whatever he had, or possibly could have with Jo — to develop into something tangible.

But he _did_ know that he was going to kill his damn Sasquatch of a brother for misleading him.

In retrospect, he should really start looking for a place to hide from Dean and the homicidal tendencies that would certainly surface when he found out about him and Jo.


End file.
